Staring out of Darkness
by Sabie
Summary: The introduction of the new character: the daughter of Sabertooth if it can be called so... READ AND DECIDE FOR YOUR OWN!!!


STARING OUT OF DARKNESS   
  
(February, 2018,California,  
  
Four months before Sabie's birth)  
  
1.1 Prologue  
  
It was around midnight when Patricia heard a weird sound coming from the hall. "Jordan?" she questioned, putting the book aside and getting up from the bed. No answer came. Frowning, she opened the door and stepped to the stairs and listened. The house was quite and dark. "Jordan? Is that you?" she called again and switched the light on. ~It must have been him, definitely. Who else would be here at such an hour? He came home from work and went to the kitchen to get some food, so don't stand there, you had better go cook him something, he must be exhausted~ she said to herself and paced down the stairs when a thought occurred to her.  
  
Robbers.  
  
It subsided as fast as it came. With all the security systems her husband set four months ago, no one could get in unnoticed. So no robbers, Patricia, no ghosts and no Freddy Krugers, just your poor tired husband. She let out a sign of relief. "I'm commin', sweetheart" she purred as she paced down the stairs and went to the kitchen. "You can have some meat from the fridge…" her voice trailed off. The kitchen was empty. She let out a bored sign. Now, where was he then?! "Jordan!" she exclaimed. "You better stop now or…" she thought for a moment "…or I won't let you smear whipped cream all over me again. Ever." Satisfied with her threat she folded her arms over her chest and eyed the kitchen.  
  
Soon it was clear Jordan wasn't going to get out from wherever he was hiding… hiding? Suddenly it hit her. Why would he hide at all? He must be exhausted like hell and not in the mood for playing games…  
  
She swallowed. Suddenly the house seemed too quite and empty… ~like a grave~ she thought and pushed the thought away immediately. ~Come on, you're not a little girl anymore, you're over thirty already, and you know it's bad for your child when you worry~ her hand instinctively laid on her still flat belly. she took a deep breath and paced to the guest room.  
  
Patricia stopped at the door frame as her heart started to race. To switch the light on, she had to get across the dark room. She swallowed and took a deep breath. ~come on, don't be that silly! It's just your husband, no one else! Come on now!~ Like lightening, she made her way through the room and feverishly pushed the button for the light. The light switched on and she let out a chuckle of relief. No one in the room. ~hey, what if there was no sound at all? what if it was your imagination playing games, and now you're running all through the house like a madman?~ she chuckled again ~must be hormones~  
  
With such thoughts she stepped back to the door, when she saw a shoe sticking out from behind the sofa. The shoe. Her husband's shoe. Her heart stopped, and she let out what sounded like a growl. "Jordan!" ~damn, but he promised not to drink when she got pregnant! He DID promise!~ the anger rose in her as she made her way to the sofa. Yes, there he was, laying on the carpet on his stomach, drunk like a dead man. Patricia felt the urge to spit on him. How could he?! After he swore to quit!  
  
"You! Get the fucking up!" with that she rolled him over with her foot. Then her scream filled the hall. Jordan's chest was ripped open, she could see his guts through the wound and the blood soaked shreds of his once white shirt were stuck to the half-bare bones of his ribcage. His face was covered with blood splashes and his eyes were nearly rolling out in the last statement of the deadly fear. Then the light went off. Patricia braced herself against the sofa as her breath became rapid.  
  
"Who's there?" her voice sounded like a tiny squeak. The house replied with the dead silence. Dead. Suddenly she realized she was standing near the corpse. With a shriek she ducked back and nearly stumbled over the chair. Bracing herself against the wall not to loose balance, she listened again. Not even a tiny sound. ~the phone~ yes. The police. To call the police. Step by step, she sneaked to the table and reached out for a phone when she heard a hissing sound right near her. She froze on the spot not ever daring to breath. He was still here. Waiting for her. Playing with her. Her heart stopped.  
  
Patricia grasped the phone and brought it to her ear. The phone was dead. Reaching out she groped for the cord to find out it was cut. ~Calm down, Pat…~ she took a few deep breathes ~ Don't let panic overwhelm you. You don't have a chance to get out of the house. So you shall find a way to call the police…~ suddenly she felt someone's gaze on her. Cold and threatening, it was running over her body over and over again, pinning her to the spot. It took all her will to keep from screaming. ~cell phone~ her husband had a cell phone. The one with no cords to cut. Patricia glanced at the bloody corpse of her love and felt the ball of nausea making its way up her throat. ~he killed you… oh, god, but he killed you, Jordan… how could he…~ her hands shivered even more and a sudden tear made its way down her cheek ~go and get it~ she shifted slightly ~get it and run. Or he'll kill you too~ she gritted her teeth and focused on the waistband of her dead husband. "sorry, love" she whispered, and her own voice sounded too loud in her ears.  
  
She counted under her breath ~one… two… THREE!~ Like a lightening she leaped to her husband's body, jerked the cell phone out of the holder and ran like no tomorrow. She managed to find the right button and even heard the signal of the call, when the phone was roughly yanked out of her palm and a moment later she was thrown on the carpet. The pain flashed in her head as her skull hit the floor, and for a moment she saw nothing but multicolored balls. Then they were gone and she screamed so loud it felt like her vocal cords would tear apart.  
  
The huge frame was looming over her. In the dim light of the moon coming from the window she saw only the contours of the man, but there were his eyes, shining in the darkness. Bright, green from lid to lid without ever a shade of pupil, they were shining like ones of a cat. ~mutie~ She tried to get up, but immediately was pinned by his impossibly heavy weight. Her wrists were grabbed in one meaty paw as another paw made its way to her throat, grasping it with the force she doubted a human could ever possess.  
  
She started chocking, struggling under his frame in a futile attempt to break free. His face leaned to hers as he whispered into her ear in a growling voice that reminded her of tiger's purr "Scream fer me".  
  
And she did. She screamed like a madman, and even louder as he tore at her gown, leaving her naked, and ran his hand over her breast. The pain followed the lines his fingers left, as if knives were scratching her flesh. ~Claws~ the thought came, and she wondered how she could still think. She felt her legs being kicked apart, and before she could realize what he was gonna do, the searing pain tore through her lower abdomen. If she could scream louder, she would have, but her vocal cords were already giving way. Through the red haze of pain and fear she saw his head going down again. She didn't feel the bite, nor the hot blood streaming from her neck. Just the multicolored balls once again claimed her vision, getting more intense with every thrust he made into her body and then turning into total darkness that overwhelmed her.  
  
1.1.1 Part1  
  
Patricia was slowly coming to her senses. For a moment it seemed to her she was in her home in her bed with Jordan beside her, waking up from the most severe hangover she had ever had. Then it was gone. Jordan was dead. She felt tears forming in her still closed eyes and sobbed. "Are you okay, Mrs. Sherman?" the doctor asked, and she opened her eyes, giving him a tired glance.  
  
It was hard to focus, the objects around were blurry in spite of her desperate tries. All she could see was that it was dark outside and it was electrical light in the room. "yes" she tried to say, but it was just a tiny squeak coming out of her throat. "Don't try to talk yet, madam, your vocal cords are in bad condition. Just nod or shake your head." Patricia nodded. "Do you remember what happened with you?" she waved her head. "The police found you in your house in the guest room, near… hmm… Mr. Sherman. You were severely injured by the attacker. You've been unconscious almost the whole day."  
  
For a moment memories overwhelmed her. Violent thrusts, so deep she felt his cock was going to come out of her throat, clawing her body, "Scream fer me", growl, scratching… and those eyes, gleaming in darkness, staring at her…  
  
"Are you all right?" the doc. Frowned. Patricia swallowed and waved her head in not-that-bad-but-it-could-be-better way. Doctor nodded. "I'm Dr. Ronald Kinsley. In case you need some help, any kind of help, push the button on the side of your bed and I'll come immediately" Patricia nodded. As he went out of the room, she closed her eyes and nearly drifted into sleep when a thought made her nearly jump on the bed. With a pale face, she found a button and pushed it with all strength she had left. Dr. Ronald appeared almost immediately. "What happened?" he looked confused being called to soon.  
  
Patricia tried to talk, but it was only the series of squeaks and hisses. Ronald looked through his pockets and handed her a notepad and a pen. Terror turned Patricia's usually calligraphic script into chicken-scratch that made the doctor frown and squint his eyes. "How is my kid?" the note said.  
  
He rose his eyes. "What kid?" her heart sank. She sank on the bed, her hands shivering with desperation. That monster killed her kid, oh my goodness, he killed her kid. The last thing she had from her husband. A tear made its way down her cheek. Dr. Ronald sat on the edge of the bed and looked into her face. "Don't worry that much. The analyses aren't ready yet, so it can be all right. At what term are you?" she showed him five fingers. "Five months?…" he sounded shocked, as there was not even a sign of pregnancy in her perfect forms. Patricia shook her head and doctor nodded. "You meant five weeks" he stated, the smiled "It's a sure thing that five weeks gives the cub a better chance. The younger the cub is, the more difficult is to actually loose it. So.." he smiled. "I'll tell you the test results tomorrow afternoon." Patricia nodded with a grateful smile on her lips.  
  
"Thanks" she mouthed.  
  
"Not at all" doc. Ronald replied.  
  
She tried to sleep, but the dreams didn't come. Instead there were fragments of that horrible night, mixed in an insane twist that made her shiver. Every time she drifted into a nap, she woke up screaming, still claimed by the images of her dead husband lying on the floor, and those green cat-like eyes accompanied by sick thrusts into her body. After the second such awakening, the nurse decided to stay in her room. "That's okay, it's all over Mrs. Sherman. I'm sure the police will soon find that bastard and get him onto electric chair." She said as she held Patricia's hand in her thin palm.  
  
"Call me Patricia" she whispered.  
  
The nurse smiled happily "I'm Janet, and I'm really glad you're talking already. Tomorrow you'll be singing, believe me." Patricia smiled back and took a deep breath.  
  
"They'll get him. I'm sure."  
  
"We've got a psychologist here. Nice woman, kind and generous. Maybe, you need her help or something. If you do, I'll ask her to come this morning." Patricia nodded.  
  
"Yes, I'd like to see her. Just not at such an hour." She chuckled and motioned at the watch that showed 4:38.  
  
"We can wait" the nurse smiled.  
  
~What a nice woman~ Patricia thought when Janet left. ~Never thought someone can be that responsive if the work didn't demand it. She must have had thousands of people like me, and still she sincerely tries her best.~ She smiled.  
  
Then her thoughts moved back to the child. How was he?… or she? The term was only five weeks, and she didn't know the sex of her future kid, but still somehow she was sure it was a girl. Patricia wasn't the type of women who wanted to prolong their kin by having a male-baby. She preferred girls. So cute and creative, they were more adopted to the world, and… to tell the truth, in the depth of her soul she was sure all men were as dumb as rocks. Even her husband. Poor Jordan, sure thing she had no right to think about him that way, but damn, he was stupid!  
  
Thinking that all a woman needs is a new car, expensive jewelry, and tiredless sex. She waved her head. He never ever thought she was making a carreer and was close to actually ruling the firm she worked in. And still… there was something about him. In the manner he talked to her, embraced her, got her to work and back. He called her "sunshine", she never knew why. And his smile was what could be called a warm smile. Not the brilliant Hollywood smiles she saw every day in her office, but the real warm kind smile, the smile of the person who cared.  
  
Patricia closed her eyes. ~I'll keep the child of yours, love, I'll keep it for you~ she shook her head ~damn, but you sound pathetic, Pat~ she jerked herself mentally, then tilted her head to the side in her soundless talk ~but I do think so, I really do~ She signed.  
  
###  
  
In the morning the doctor came in. "Good morning" Patricia smiled, and he smiled back.  
  
"Glad to hear your voice is in the norm already."  
  
"How's the analysis?" she questioned, and he signed.  
  
"I'm sorry, but they aren't ready yet. As I said, only in the afternoon." He came closer. "There's police out there, they want to talk to you as soon as you will be able to. I don't mean now, of course, only when you're ready." Patricia nodded.  
  
"I'll accept them in ten minutes."  
  
Dr. Kinsley looked shocked. "Are you… I mean are you sure it won't traumatize you to… hmm… to recall all that in your memory?"  
  
She shook her head. "The sooner they get the information, the sooner they imprison that… man." She had another word in her mind for that bastard, but she didn't even let it roll on her tongue. She never swore. Ever. Dr. Kinsley shrugged and went out. As soon as the door closed behind him, Patricia took her cosmetics-bag out of the bedside table. In spite of her age she didn't need much more than mascara and lipstick, however she was glad she had some rouge and tonal-crème – her face was far too pale to look normal, and she wasn't one to let someone else see her like this, doctors didn't count.  
  
In ten minutes Dr. Kinsley let the policemen come in. There were two of them: captain Hitcher and sergeant Nicholson, as they introduced themselves. "We're extremely sorry to disturb you after what has happened, but unfortunately we couldn't wait longer as we're not gonna let that bastard get out of this. We need you to bring him to the justice, Mrs. Sherman."  
  
She nodded. "I'm ready to answer any questions and offer any other possible help." ~They'll get him, Jordan, he won't go that easily. He'll pay~ she frowned for a moment at the thought, then looked back at the policemen.  
  
Captain Hitcher was the first one to state the question. "Please, tell us everything you remember about the accident, starting from why you actually were in the guest room at such a late hour?" She signed, recalling the events.  
  
"I was in my room, reading a book. Then I heard a sound, and I thought it was Jordan coming from work." ~damn, why is the voice so traiterously shaking?~ "I went down to the kitchen, but he wasn't there. I looked in the guest room, and there he was…" she signed, but kept the calm look on her face.  
  
"We've found your fingerprints on his clothes and his body. Was that you who rolled him over?" She nodded.  
  
"I did it with my foot. Kinda rude, but… I thought he was drunk. He promised me not to drink and was holding on perfectly for a month already, and when I saw him on the floor, I thought he was drunk and I got angry and rolled him and saw he was wounded and…" ~stop it, you're talking nonsense!~ "…so I rolled him over and saw he was dead." She finished.  
  
"What happened then?"  
  
"The lights went out." She paused. ~you're not there anymore. You're just telling them what happened. Nothing more. Nothing more~ but it was beyond her to separate. "I didn't hear him coming, but I… dunno, but I felt that he was staring at me out of the darkness." She shivered.  
  
"Are you okay?" Hitcher asked worriedly. She nodded and went on.  
  
"I tried to call to the police, but the phone-cord was cut. Then I… wanted to use my husband's cell-phone… I even reached for it, when it yanked it out of my hands and threw me on the carpet. Those eyes…" she choked and silenced. There was pity on the face of sergeant, but captain went on questioning.  
  
"Why do you call the attacker 'it'?"  
  
Patricia took a deep breath. "It had green eyes. Green from lid to lid. And it had claws. It was stronger than any man could possibly be, huge, about 6'8", I think." She thought for a moment, then stated "It was a mutie." The look on Hitcher's face was worth seeing, the look on the Archimed's face when he was screaming "Evrika" must have been the same. (I'm not sure, but I think you meant to say 'the look on the Alchemist's face when he was screaming 'Eureka' must have been the same.')   
  
The look on sergeant's face brought nausea to her stomach. The mix of deep pathetic pity and disgust was too obvious, she almost could see the thoughts ~god, she was raped by a mutie~ ~oh my goodness, but he fucked her~ running through his head. That made her shift her chin up slightly, giving herself an independent confident statement.  
  
"So? Any other questions?" now her voice was calm and clear, as it usually was. Sergeant shifted uncomfortably, but the captain asked.  
  
"Can you describe the attacker, Mrs. Sherman?" She thought for a moment.  
  
"I'm afraid, I've told you everything I know. It was dark, and I lost consciousness far too early to have a possibility to get a good look on that creature." ~now, that was cynic~  
  
Captain nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Sherman, we don't have any other questions. We promise to stay in touch with you during the investigation. If you remember anything that can help us, call us anytime." He placed a card on her night-table. Sergeant muttered his good-byes and wishes to get better, then they left. Patricia let out a sign of relief. Despite all her confidence and calm look, the story brought her somewhat back to what had happened along with the image of dead Jordan on the floor in the guestroom.  
  
She shuddered. Doctor Kinsley entered the room. "They didn't bother you too much?"  
  
"No, it's okay."  
  
"Good. I'm gonna get one more blood sample today and the X-rays of your ribs to check that they're all fixed right and the healing is going." She nodded, and he left too.  
  
In some hours the doctor came back with happy news – the analyses showed it was okay with the cub. Patricia felt like a gigantic rock fell off her shoulders. It was one of those times the true happiness came into her soul.  
  
Days passed, each next the same as previous, and Patricia felt she'd lose the trace of time sooner or later. But her healing went on, and soon dr. Kinsley declared she could leave the hospital.  
  
As she neared her house, her heart raced. Her home didn't look friendly any more, it was dangerous and threatening. She forced herself into taking a few deep breaths and put her hand on the doorknob. "Maybe it'd be better for you to get a room in a hotel for now, Mrs.?" The servant questioned, but she shook her head. She should enter the house and put the last stone in her husband's grave. All the time she was in hospital, deep in her soul she didn't believe Jordan was dead. No, sure thing he wasn't the one who was killed by that animal, he was okay, waiting for her at home to hug her and ask her where she had been for so long… She shook her head and opened the door.  
  
The house was empty and lifeless. Patricia reached for the button and switched the light on. The bright lamp lightened the hall, and Patricia swallowed. She froze in the doorframe as the memories washed over her once again. The stairs she walked down by, the door to the kitchen she called Jordan in. God, she thought he was hiding from her… said that she wouldn't ever let him smear the whipped cream all over her… She took a deep harsh breath. ~Silly. It's all silly. He's dead, and you shall keep on living~ her thought broke as she her gaze stopped at the sofa. Here he was. Here he had been… She leaned to the wall, suddenly all exhausted, with her legs giving way… he was there, his chest ripped open, with shreds of his once white shirt stuck to the bones of his ribcage… there was the wall she had ducked to, the phone… now she could see the cord was in normally, but she remembered, she did remember it had been cut, and the phone didn't work, the damn phone refused to work… and she ran… and there was the floor she was thrown to… cell phone flying across the room… claws on her breasts  
  
… pain in her lower body… and those eyes… green pupilles eyes, lifeless…  
  
"Are you all right Mrs.?…" the servant asked, and Patricia blinked. The house was clean and nice, no blood and no maniacs around, just the servant eyeing her with worry in his eyes. "Maybe it'll be really better for you to get to the hotel?" Suddenly Patricia was angry. Go sink in your memories, go let them overwhelm you and die in them, but damn, don't be all that pathetic to let your own servant watch your fall. "No, it's okay. Just my head is spinning" she murmured with a smile and stepped into the house.  
  
That evening she was sitting in the kitchen, looking in her small cup of coffee. Suddenly the cup seemed all too small, and she… she was small too. Small in a big house. Lonely. She never ever thought it could be so awful and scary to be lonely. The house was definitely too big from now on. Why does she need all those rooms? Six rooms for her only. Maybe she'd give two of them for rent? or she'd sell the house and buy a new one?  
  
She shook her head. Jordan loved this house, he'd be upset if she sold it away. Patricia looked through the door of the kitchen into the hall. "Jordan?" she called, and a shiver ran down her spine. That was horrifying. But still, driven by some tingling feeling inside her, she rose on her feet and paced to the door, copying the evening that had been weeks ago. Again, it was dark in the hall, it couldn't be the other way as the light-button was on the opposite wall, but still her heart sank. ~do it, Pat, or you'll be terrified of your own home for the rest of your life~ She paced through the hall, slowly and carefully, as if afraid to disturb whatever was sleeping there… on the floor behind the sofa… with lightening speed she reached the button and spun around to look at the sofa.  
  
The light fell on the black sofa and the clean carpet under it. Too empty. But still it was just an ordinary hall. Nothing more. Nothing less. She walked along the sofa, stroking its back, and she neared the place where… neared that floor. That place. God, but it looked almost childish now, that floor with the end of the carpet on it. Just the floor to step on, to walk on, to drop plates when you're angry, to wash and to clean, but not to lay there bleeding out. Just a floor. She swallowed. "Scream fer me…" She spun around, her eyes wide, her breath coming in short gasps.  
  
No one there.  
  
Just the memory. Those green eyes, the ones she couldn't get rid of in spite of all those sittings in psycho-rehabilitation she took. "…you shall understand your husband won't ever return to you, but your life is going to go on, so try to build it once again, the new life…" the woman in comfy rosy sweater said that. She was the one who helped her to deal with the memories of… even in her mind Patricia couldn't name what he did to her. But the memories eased back, almost all of them, but not those eyes. They were still there, in every darkness her eyes met. Looking at her, pinning her to the spot.  
  
She let out a sign and gave the hall the last glance. "I'll cope, Jordan" she whispered, and then added, as if the creature could hear her. "You won't break my life, motherfucker. I won't let you." With that she turned around and went up to her bedroom.  
  
Part2  
  
"Now, what do we have here?" captain Hitcher asked. Simon shrugged his shoulders. "The blood is either hers or Mr. Sherman's. No fingerprints. No evidence. All we have is the sample of his sperm from Mrs. Sherman's body. But… you know, I doubt it'll help."  
  
"Damn!" Rex hissed "I can't believe it, I just can't believe the man of such height and so huge a body could get into that house with all the security systems and get out without a sound! I can't believe!…"  
  
"But Rex, who said it was made without a sound? Remember, it was the neighbors who heard the screams and called the police…"  
  
"But the SYSTEM didn't detect him, that's what I'm talking about! Impossible!" Simon sat on the stairs of the police-station and took another drag of his cigarette.  
  
"Easy, maybe he can just go through walls, he's a mutant, don't forget it." Hitcher's head snapped up.  
  
"Let's summon up: claws, fangs, shining eyes without pupils. What else?" Simon rubbed his chin.  
  
"Walking through walls, or maybe not. Maybe something else. Moving with the speed of light, invisibility, the ability to fly, or simply the ability to control any technology around." His calm hazel eyes met Hitcher's feverish gray/green.  
  
"It isn't the right way to search for him, Rex. We can't lose time guessing, the only way is to rely on facts." He nodded, and Rex nodded too.  
  
"Ya'r right. Facts, pure facts. The sperm sample." He turned to Simon, fire playing in his eyes. "He's psychotic, and that's a fact too." Simon rose an eyebrow, and Rex went on.  
  
"That guy didn't leave a trace of being there except for a corpse. Not a shade of evidence. That means it wasn't the first time he's done a kill. But you see, when Mrs. Patricia found her dead husband, he was still in the house, and he decided to play with her. That shows him as the owner of some sadistic traits. He liked to see her scared. He even loved it as he was aroused already as he leaped on her…"  
  
"How so?"  
  
"He entered her almost immediately after he pushed her down." Rex explained and went on. "It looks like he came as an assassin, did his job, and then saw her and decided to play. Then the play aroused him and he raped her." He looked at the sergeant.  
  
Simon thought for a moment, then waved his head. "He is a psycho, Rex, you're right. But think once again, how come he was sent to kill if the client knew he was psycho on the edge?" Hitcher stopped pacing around and signed.  
  
"I dunno, Simon. But we have what we have. A psycho was hired to kill and did it perfectly, then he saw a woman, played with her and raped her. And he was pleased with what he did." Their eyes met.  
  
"But the psycho killers are never hired as they can't control the situation."  
  
"Not this one though." Rex turned and kicked the wall.  
  
"Bullshit!" Simon responded with a slow nod.  
  
###  
  
"Give it to me" the middle-aged overweighed woman said, and Rex gave her the diskette.  
  
"Here're the analysis results."  
  
"Mutant, right?" Karen made a face. "Another one. And why didn't they help you in the official lab?" Simon shrugged  
  
"You know how they go about mutants, Karen. The smallest problem – and they give up and give it up to you mumbling something about it was all they could do."  
  
Karen inserted the diskette and let her fingers dance over the keyboard. The various diagrams and tables appeared on the screen, accompanied by numbers and letters that made no sense to either men.  
  
"And all that comes from that li'l semen drop?!" Rex blinked. "Now I know why Nancy knows so much about me." Simon broke into laugh, followed by Karen who kept on working though. Soon she frowned and checked some numbers once again.  
  
"That's the weirdest thing I've ever seen. How much time has passed since the sample was taken?" Simon thought for a moment.  
  
"About four days, I think" Karen gagged.  
  
"What?" Rex questioned.  
  
"The sperm are still alive and capable of reproduction."  
  
"Sounds weird." Simon muttered. Rex shrugged not seeing anything strange in what he had heard.  
  
"They should have died in two days after ejaculation." For some time they kept silent, thinking.  
  
"What the hell does it mean then?" Rex asked.  
  
"Looks like he's got hyper-reproductive capabilities, or… or it can go deeper, if his semen cells aren't the only ones to last that long. If yes, then every cell of his, any cell of his is a thousand times harder to damage than a human one…" She thought for a moment, then nodded to herself, accepting the idea.  
  
"I'll define what's the cause of this all, if you get me the sample to experiment on." Simon and Rex exchanged glances. They both knew it wasn't that easy to get the sample back without all that bureaucracy, especially if they were gonna experiment on the evidence, but still… Simon nodded.  
  
"We'll get it by this evening".  
  
###  
  
It was dark outside already as they were sitting in the lab. Karen put the sample under the microscope and was watching over it while Simon and Rex were sitting and watching her. Soon she straightened up with shock on her face and motioned for them to come. Clicking some buttons, she displayed the sample on the screen. They saw some tadpole-like thingies slowly making their way around in the limits of black circle. "Sperm" Karen commented. "Still alive and capable for reproduction." She took a tiny scalpel (or at least it looked like one) and pointed on the screen. "Watch this." She bent over the sample and soon they saw a black line of scalpel on the screen too. It cut the outline of one of the cells. The outline broke and the liquid in it started slowly pouring out. Rex shrugged and glanced at Karen questioning, when Simon motioned at the screen. "Look." He turned back to the screen and his eyebrows rose up. White tendril-like sheds snaked out of the cut outline and to each other. They met, tangling into one thick shred that soon was covered with brown outlines, renewing the cell. The transparent liquid in the cell renewed from whatever source, and only the drops of liquid among the cells evidenced that the cell was damaged. Rex gagged.  
  
"Does it mean what I think it means?…" Karen nodded.  
  
"The walls of the cell, the same as its nucleus, don't recover after being damaged. The regular cell dies. What it means is that he can regenerate his own body on a level I never thought is possible. And he does it really fast. I assume he needs no more than twenty minutes to recover from any theoretically mortal wound. The quickened healing results the fast metabolism, so I wouldn't be surprised if he had some kind of super- strength and super-speed." She finished. They exchanged glances. Wide eyes and big pupils showed slow realization that was coming to them.  
  
"I think I've got why they hired him." Simon muttered in silence.  
  
###  
  
"Are you sure we should do it?…" Simon swallowed, and Rex gave a confident nod.  
  
"We do it or we never find that bastard." They walked through the main police info-center, trying to look like ordinary visitors.  
  
"You know we don't have an access here" Simon hissed, but his friend just gave him a glance.  
  
"Our own investigation." Simon let out something that sounded between a sigh and a growl, but it wasn't something to impress Rex. Two multipasses they got from their friends (not that those friends knew though…) didn't have photos or fingerprints, so the policemen had no problems with entering the center, if not counting Simon's shivering knees.  
  
They stopped by the door with a plate computer-room on it and sneaked in. There were only a few people working now, and Rex waited for some time, checking whether people around were interested in what was going on on their comp. No one was though. Rex nodded with satisfaction and printed in the search by graph the inquire mutation. The system denied the request. They exchanged glances.  
  
"Let me try" Simon purred and printed search by sperm sample. The system accepted it, and it only gave time for Simon to smile when the warning appeared on the screen. access denied .  
  
"Damn!" Rex hissed. "What if?…" he returned to search by and changed it into search in graph. mutants. Error. One more time. homo superiors. Access accepted. killers. The list of names appeared in front of them. define search: contract killers. The list shortened. define search: psycho deceases. Only a dozen of names left. define search: rapists . Error: no person is found. They returned a step back. Simon printed define search: search by sperm sample. enter the sample. Simon gave Rex the glance of victory and inserted the diskette. Some time passed as various samples were checked and compared with the given one, and both friends held their breath when the red note match found appeared on the screen. Rex clicked on the button show the match, and the three names were left on the screen. They weren't even names, just some codenames. El Tiger Sabertooth Slasher.  
  
"An' all three with the same sperm sample?…" Simon questioned the screen. Rex closed his eyes tight, then opened them.  
  
"Damn" he muttered.  
  
###  
  
"We can actually get our hacker-friends to that investigation." Simon said, but Rex shook his head.  
  
"I'm not gonna risk my… job 'cos of this." Simon froze on the spot.  
  
"What?! You, the one who stole the passes and risked everything to get to that bastard, now you just quit?!" Rex shook his head.  
  
"Don't you understand? Mutant-contract killer-psycho-rapist. Now – top secret files. We got too deep, Simon, way too deep. I feel it." Simon blinked.  
  
"Does it mean you're saying?…"  
  
"Yes, I do say it. I quit. I write the report and close the case. Not enough evidences, they've gotta swallow it without a sound." Simon's eyes got wide.  
  
"Damn, Rex! What do you think you're doing?! He killed her husband and raped her, and now you're telling me you're gonna let it be?!" Rex nodded.  
  
"Wanna get killed – it's your choice. I've got a family." With that he turned around and walked to the parking lot.  
  
###  
  
"I still can't believe you're doing it" Simon grumbled from the front passenger's seat. Rex was driving in silence.  
  
"You put so much effort into this case, you even gave away the Martinson case, remember? An' now you're scared by top secret files… damn, I can't believe it, Rex, is that still you?!" Rex swallowed, staring at the road.  
  
"Ya called the woman?" he questioned.  
  
"She was the one who called me" Simon retorted "I only said the name of the man we think could have done it. Nothing special, just one of hundreds."  
  
"Which name did ya tell her?" Simon shrugged  
  
"Sabertooth. Ain't a name, but still better than nothing for the lady. "  
  
"Damn but I can't believe ya just quit the case, Rex!"  
  
"Ya dunno, pal." The pause followed, and Simon already thought he won't tell a thing when he said "Once there was a case. A family. Two kid- brothers and the husband killed, the girl – their sister – raped and killed. No evidences. No witnesses. Nothing, but four bloody corpses." He paused, taking a deep breath. "A friend of mine took the case. He… he came close enough to the one he was hunting down." He closed his eyes breathily. "The next day he was found with his head ripped off." He looked straight on Simon "Do ya wanna ya'r head dangling on the branch while ya'r body is down on the wet cold ground?" Simon swallowed nervously and shook his head.  
  
"No I don't". Rex nodded.  
  
"Me either, comrade, me either. That's why I closed the case. It ends up referring to the lack of evidences and…" By this time he was barely looking at the road, and when his gaze tore away from Simon's face, he saw the man right on in front of the car. With a shriek, he pressed the brake pedal. The car stopped about two feet away from the figure. Rex leaped out of the car and paced to the stranger. In the car light Simon could see the stranger was high, but the car was too close, so he couldn't see much more than that 'cos of the light falling mostly on the knee level of the man. He heard Rex yelling at the stranger, then his yell got a weird intonation and he stopped gesticulating. Frowning, Simon leaned forth to see what had happened when the stranger stepped closer to the window (~Damn, but two steps were enough for him where Rex needed four!~ he thought) and shoved Rex's head through the opened window. At first Simon didn't get all the sense of the act, but then something hot streamed down his legs over the jeans. Something sticky and crimson. He looked at Rex – the half of his head was ripped off. A shriek filled the car as Simon pushed himself onto the driver's seat. ~if I act fast enough, I can drive away before he catches me…~ was his last thought before his head was smashed across the panel.  
  
The wind blew and howled on the abandoned road, cooling out the two dead bodies in the car, with window broken and an engine dead long ago…   
  
Part3  
  
[six months after]  
  
Patricia sat in the doctor's office in a chair. Her belly was already more than noticeable, looking more like one of nine months pregnant. She had to change her favourite suits into dresses long ago and take a leave at her work soon after that. Now she was looking at her private doctor Tares intently.  
  
"It's all in the measures of norm, Mrs. Patricia" he assured her once again. "I know it looks weird when the cub grows so fast, but believe me, it does happen sometimes."  
  
"What if the cub will be too weak and will… I mean what if it won't live through the birth?" Dr. Tares shook his head.  
  
"Not possible, we've had these problems before. Some part of the premature cubs in your case has quite a little percent of the risk not to survive the birth process. So you've got nothing to worry about." He smiled. Patricia smiled back.  
  
Yes, it had sense, she had read the articles about such cases and so on, but it was one thing to read and another thing to see her own belly growing what seemed like in minutes. Heavily got she up and paced to the door. That was another thing about her pregnancy: she could move freely no more. All her grace vanished, every action that once didn't even looked like a problem, was now a trick worth David Copperfield's attention. She paced down the stairs [~damn, by why don't they get an elevator here?!~] and got into the car. ~Hope ya'r worth it~ she thought, running her hand over her bulging belly, and smiled. Sure thing, the kid was worth it.  
  
###  
  
It started about two weeks after she visited doctor last time. Suddenly the muscles of her belly spasmed and the searing pain tore through her lower abdomen. Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax, when another wave of pain rolled over her. With trembling hands, she reached to the cell phone and pressed the number of the ambulance service.  
  
###  
  
She didn't remember what was happening in the hospital. Some doctors were running around shouting something, she felt herself being lifted up and placed onto something cold, some hands running over her, tugging at her clothes, like undressing her or something. She didn't care, she was all in the some weird state when the movements of the others seemed slow and pointless. She didn't feel pain any more, just something pressing into her belly, she didn't know what. She opened her eyes, looked at the snow-white ceiling and the masked doctor over her, and closed her eyes again.  
  
###  
  
It was dark outside already when she came to her senses. Her belly was hurting somewhat, and she let out a groan as she tried to sit up a bit. "Don't move, Mrs., better relax" her nurse soothed and Patricia grunted at that. She didn't need any soothing now. She wanted to see the kid.  
  
"How's the cub?" she questioned. The nurse smiled.  
  
"Nice girl" she said, and Patricia smiled. A girl. Her lovely Claris. Her smile got wide and silly.  
  
"May I see her?"  
  
The nurse smiled and nodded. "I'll bring her here. I'm sure she'll be glad to see her ma." She sneaked out of the room, and Patricia eased down on the pillows. It was her victory, now, here. The same dark evening, like the one over six months ago. But now she was the one who won. She did it, in spite of everything, there was her li'l girl, her li'l kid on the way here.  
  
"I did it, Jordan" she whispered into the empty space of the room.  
  
The nurse came quickly with a white pack in her hands. The pack was big enough, but still too small for Patricia. "Are you sure she's okay?" she frowned "She's so small…"  
  
The nurse shook her head with a smile "She's perfect. 53 cm, 3,3 kg. Kinda underweight, but it's okay for kids" she handed her the pack.  
  
Patricia took it and pulled the covers aside a bit. The girl was sleeping peacefully, all nice and cute. Her skin was rosy and smooth when she touched girl's cheek with the tip of her finger. For some time she could do nothing but to admire her kid. Her own sweet kid. She couldn't believe it, the fact the kid was hers, her life, her hope, it was all there under those white covers.  
  
"Come on, girl, dear, open your eyes, look at your mommy" she soothed, stroking kid's cheek. The girl shifted in the pack and turned her head to the sound. Her hand stirred out a bit, in Patricia's direction. The thin rosy lids shifted and opened, revealing…  
  
For a moment Patricia thought the air got sticky and cold, she couldn't breath it in. He was staring at her, out of darkness. Those pupiless eyes, green from lid to lid, motionless, staring at her, eating up her soul, crashing her will, hypnotizing. They blinked, as if winking her out of those innocent white covers…  
  
With a scream, she pushed the pack away, so the nurse barely managed to catch the kid before it could fall on the floor. She checked the child – she was okay. Then she rose her eyes to look at the woman. Patricia was in hysteria. Crawling out of the bed, she paced to the wall on her shaking legs to the wall, getting as far from the cub as it was physically possible.  
  
"No! get him away from me! Help me! No! please, no!!!" Two male-nurses ran into the room, one of them holding a syringe ready. They barely managed to get a hold on the resisting woman to inject a sedative. A few seconds later she sank in their arms, all weak, mumbling "no… please… save…". They placed her on the bed and went out of the room.  
  
"What happened?" one of them asked.  
  
The nurse shrugged. "Her kid is mutant. I know it's horrible, but it's the worst reaction I've ever seen." The male-nurse shrugged and left.  
  
Epilogue  
  
"So, she can't be her official mother?" Redmond asked.  
  
"She can't be a mother at all. she's completely and utterly insane." The doctor stated.  
  
Redmond signed. "Damn. Will it be another mutant hanging on our hospital budget?"  
  
Doctor nodded. He shook his head heavily. "Still, it's the weirdest case I've ever seen. Looks like an old trauma from the contact with mutants."  
  
"Damn mutants" Redmond swore. "Always nothing but problems with them."  
  
"We've got another one here from now on."  
  
"Yeah, sure. Hey, maybe we'll get it into the FOH boarding-school?"  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Ya dunno? Those schools mutants live in till they get to the age of 18 when they can officially be taken to the court to decide whether they're dangerous or not, etc, come on ya know all that, Don." He shook his head.  
  
"Only after she's at least a month old. You know the rules."  
  
"By the way, what's her name?"  
  
"No one knows. The mother called her Sabertooth for whatever reason, or at least that's what she kept chanting. Sounds more like a man's name. So our nurses called her Sabie."  
  
"I see. Well, I'll go check that new woman from the room #3"  
  
"Ow, yeah, sorry I took ya'r time."   
  
Ya look at the TV screen  
  
And from the last news ya've seen  
  
Ya'll get known who was stronger today  
  
Who had shot in the back and who in the forehead  
  
Who wanted to win, but couldn't do it for some reason.   
  
And ya'll feel pain, ya'll feel fear  
  
That's something wrong in the world and it's already near  
  
And the main news ya've heard before  
  
Are simple, girl,  
  
It's the war.   
  
She went out somewhere and didn't call for three days  
  
And ya'r alone on ya'r empty ways  
  
And everyone says the other is guilty  
  
When to take a step to her is ever so easy  
  
Everyone wants to show he's better than he is  
  
And the violent revenge comes for love to dismiss  
  
And the passionate feelings turn into simple words  
  
But it's already another war   
  
Sometimes there's no strength left to get up and leave  
  
And there's no one around for a hand to give  
  
And there's no one around for you to say  
  
That it's the start and it's hard and soon it'll be okay  
  
It's hard to rise the weight of lifeless heart  
  
When you and your friend have just fell apart  
  
And every day turns into violent fight  
  
But it's another war – the war ya've got inside   
  
He says he saw the death, and the death he had been  
  
He says he still hasn't forgotten what he had seen  
  
His fingers still keep the nervous shiver  
  
He talks and he cries, tears ran down like a river  
  
And ya don' disturb him now, the thing is  
  
That his words are like wail if the dying being  
  
Look into his eyes – there're only shot's haze there  
  
As long as he's alive – he'll be in the war.  
  
("Dolphin", translated from Russian by Sabie)   
  
The End  


End file.
